


And The World's A Little Brighter

by thelilacfield



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Past Relationship(s), Reminiscing about the good old days, The Author Regrets Nothing, Wedding Planning, everyone being ridiculous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-03 10:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10965474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilacfield/pseuds/thelilacfield
Summary: Vision hasn't so much as looked at another woman since a terrible break-up over a year ago. Or so his friends believe. Really, he's becoming rather stupidly infatuated with his very pretty new upstairs neighbour. Who very kindly doesn't run away screaming when he tells a white lie at a wedding. She actually ends up on his arm. Life has a way of throwing beautiful women at you and expecting you to know what to do from there.





	1. in which both our players make bad decisions

**A/N:**  Hey everybody! I know I'm writing another fic too but it's more fun to write two at the same time and I already had a massive chunk of this written down - and everyone's a sucker for a good old-fashioned fake relationship fic! Five chapters is my baseline right now, I might end up getting overly verbose because I'm a sucker for a modern no powers AU filled with oblivious cuteness and ridiculous friends being ridiculous. I hope you all enjoy this! Title from  _Accidentally In Love_ by Counting Crows

* * *

**From: Bruce**

**11:27am**

**Just pulling up outside the apartment.**

With one last glance in the mirror to straighten his tie, Vision methodically checks one last time that everything is in its place, shrugs into his coat and prepares to spend at least twenty-four hours away from his apartment.

Closing the door tightly behind him and double-locking, he turns and feels his heart skip when he sees a familiar young woman ascending the stairs, flipping through her mail as she walks. He takes a moment to notice her hair pulled tightly back in a high ponytail, the loose-fitting scarlet sweatshirt and the very white laces of her black trainers, concluding that she must have been at the local gym, before she glances up and startles at seeing him watching. “Well good morning, 4B,” she says sweetly, smiling at him in a way that makes her eyes simply light up. “You look very dashing today, special occasion?”

Momentarily distracted trying to ascertain the origins of the accent that flows through her words, Vision hastily answers, “My friend is getting married, we’re now on our way to the venue. I’m a groomsman.”

“Sounds fun, I’m jealous,” she says. “All I have waiting for me is another manuscript bowing to the dystopia craze. Have a great night, don’t take too much advantage of that open bar.”

“I worry more about the groom than anyone else,” he confides, and she laughs. “I do hope that manuscript isn’t too dire.” She positively beams at him before she turns to the next flight of stairs, and he watches the swing of her hair as she rounds the corner and leaves his line of sight.

The conversation replays in his head as he descends the stairs and finds the car waiting, Bruce waving at him from the backseat and beginning to talk as soon as he climbs in, all wide eyes and animated hand gestures as he describes the scientific breakthrough he is on the verge of. He doesn’t even know her name, only that she has lived in the apartment above for the last three months and he has altered his schedule in order to catch glimpses of her so slowly and subtly that it took him a week to notice he was going downstairs to retrieve his mail precisely twenty-seven minutes earlier than usual to coincide with her heading out to work. And, of course, that she is beautiful and talks to him like it isn’t mere small talk between neighbours, but as if she truly cares about what he has to say.

Rhodey is waiting for them on the steps of the hotel, fending off marauding paparazzi with sharp words and pointed glares, and hands them both a steaming mug of hotel coffee as they arrive at his side. “Tony is freaking out,” he says as they begin walking, still making time to wink flirtatiously at the pretty receptionist.

“What stage are we at?” Bruce asks. “The ‘I’m not ready’ phase, the ‘I’m going to be a terrible husband because of my unresolved issues with my father’ phase or the ‘she’s much too good for me and she’d be better off if I just go and take the ring back and call the whole thing off’ phase?”

“I already had to listen to the rant about his dad at six am when he kicked me awake,” Rhodey says, with the slightly fond irritation of someone who has been friends with Tony Stark since high school. “But the band called to say the pianist for the reception is going to be slightly late and it just snapped something in him. Keeps shouting about uselessness and commitment issues.”

“So we’re at the ‘talking about something else when he’s really talking about himself’ stage,” Bruce says, and Rhodey nods wearily. “Listen, you go talk to the wedding planner, make sure everything is okay. Where’s Scott?”

“Keeping Pepper and Hope out of it, so we don’t end up with Hope kicking off at Tony,” Rhodey says. “Speaking of which, I better go remind Janet and Maria to keep Hank and Howard away from each other at all times.”

“Vision, I need you to go to the bar downstairs and ask for one whiskey each,” Bruce says, adjusting his cufflinks in a well-known gesture of preparation for battle with Tony’s numerous emotional issues. Vision follows the instructions to the letter, and reaches the room set aside for the groom to prepare to find Tony pacing back and forth, wringing his hands, and Bruce sitting on the bed and watching.

“I just want everything to be perfect for her, you know?” he’s saying as he enters, and Bruce is nodding sympathetically. Snatching the beautifully-cut glass from Vision’s hand, Tony downs the whiskey in one smooth gesture and continues, “This is the start of our life together! And if the useless band can’t follow through on something they committed to months ago- God, I can’t do this, this isn’t about the band!” He collapses on the end of the bed, downs Bruce’s glass of whiskey too and says, “If today goes wrong, then it’s an omen of our life together. And if the band can’t show, how am I supposed to be sure that I can be a good husband? After all my past misdemeanours?”

“Because you love her, T-bone,” Bruce says softly. “Maybe you were a ladies man in your youth, but you and Pepper have been together for four years. Four years! Maybe today won’t be perfect, but marriage won’t be either. What counts is that you make it as good as you possibly can, because you love her and you want to be with her for the rest of your life. This is what you rambled to us about at three am the night you kissed her, it’s what you said during that long drive through Texas and it’s all you talked about at your bachelor party. So get out there, and marry her!”

* * *

Watching the whirling skirts in an entire spectrum of colours and the overhead lights gleaming on the pointed toes of expensive leather shoes out on the dancefloor, Vision only glances up from his glass of champagne when Rhodey sits down next to him, tie askew, a bottle of beer in one hand and the other spinning Carol into his lap. “You look like you’re having a good night,” he observes, and Carol smiles at him.

“And you’re still the worst wedding guest I’ve ever seen,” Rhodey says with the relentless cheer that can only come of taking a little too much advantage of the open bar. “You should be out there dancing, you haven’t even done it once!”

“That is plainly not true, you will see Pepper and I dancing together in the video,” Vision says. “And I danced with Hope, listened to her tale of woe. And kept Pepper’s nieces busy while her sister danced with Tony. And Tony’s cousin asked me to dance.”

Rolling his eyes, Rhodey downs the rest of his beer and sets the empty bottle down on the table, adding to the ever-growing collection. “All of them are either taken or kids, Vision! C’mon, all these women from Stark Industries and Pepper’s college friends and these people I’m not totally sure how they know. Ask someone to dance!”

“I am happy watching, Rhodey,” Vision says, unable to keep the edge out of his voice.

“We just worry about you,” Carol says softly, setting down her glass of water to reach over and squeeze Vision’s shoulder reassuringly. “We all know what hell you went through with that break-up. But it’s been over a year now, and it doesn’t look like you’ve moved on.”

“Yeah, you just work all the time instead,” Rhodey says, waving down a waiter for another glass of champagne. “Working is not a substitute for a relationship.”

“I don’t work all the time,” Vision says quietly, taking an unusually long sip of his champagne.

Rhodey lets out a derisive snort, and says, “Okay, tell me one time in the past year you’ve left that oh so beautiful apartment except to go into the office, go to the store or to hang out with us.”

“Your brother’s wedding doesn’t count,” Carol adds, and Rhodey smiles at his wife.

“See, you can’t answer,” he says after a long moment of silence. “I know you and Ellen were together for a long time, and you thought she was the one. But she wasn’t.”

“We shouldn’t be talking about this at a wedding,” Vision says, once again avoiding the subject with a skill that can only be learned by years of friendship with Tony Stark.

Mercifully, just as Rhodey is readying for another attack on what Vision has managed to keep suppressed through a combination of diverting his friends, deflecting his family and spending a lot of time working, Hope sits down at their table. More falls into the chair, another victim of the open bar. “Can I tell you guys a secret?” she asks, and they all turn to face her. “Scott and I are getting married!”

“Hope, you caught the bouquet, but you know that’s just a silly superstition, right?” Rhodey says. “Remember when Ellen caught the bouquet at my wedding?”

“No, no, we really are!” Hope says, reaching down for her clutch, and returning upright smiling at Vision’s steadying hand on her arm, keeping her from tipping completely to the floor after the champagne. To all of their surprise, she extracts a simple silver ring from the pocket and says, “He proposed on my birthday. But we agreed not to talk about it until after the wedding.”

“Oh my God, congratulations!” Carol says, and Hope beams at her, a flush of happiness spilling into her cheeks - happiness and alcohol. “Another wedding! And you’re gonna be a stepmom!”

“We’re growing up, guys,” Rhodey observes. “All of us. Carol and I having a baby. Tony and Pepper married. Hope’s gonna have a stepdaughter like a real adult. Bruce is making this huge scientific breakthrough in gamma research. Maria’s been dating Sharon for a whole year now. She hasn’t committed to anything for that long since her degree.”

“Cassie’s really excited,” Hope says. “And Maggie and Paxton have already passed on a whole bunch of names from people who did their wedding. We’re thinking spring next year.”

“And we’ll all be there,” Carol says, stars in her eyes at the thought of another wedding. “We’ll have the baby by then, Tony and Pepper will have been married for a year. Sorry to say it, gang, but we’re adults.”

“Well, maybe Vision will have someone to bring to the wedding by then,” Rhodey says.

And though he’s just teasing, though it’s happened every time one of them has been single for a time ever since they met in freshman year, though he knows that if he asked them to stop they would and they only want him to talk about Ellen to help him get past it - which he hasn’t, despite his occasional words to the contrary - something possesses Vision to say, “I’m actually seeing someone.”

He can’t even blame half a glass of champagne for the lie. But he can’t take it back from the second Rhodey chokes on his beer and Hope screeches, “Tony! Bruce! Pepper! Vision’s dating again!” across the dancefloor.

* * *

After a morning Vision spent most of offering glasses of water and gentle sympathy to his hungover friends, he finally gets home with his suit in a garment bag and the memories still filling his head, culminating in Hope falling spectacularly up the stairs going to bed and ending up with an impressive bruise. It’s a Sunday morning, and the city is still sleeping, only dog walkers and morning joggers following the turn of the pavements, and the apartment entryway is empty. Swallowing a yawn, he reaches to open his mailbox and starts when he hears a teasing, “Looks like someone had a late night,” from behind him.

She is there, hair wet and slicked back from her face, in a long-sleeved knitted red dress and pointed brown boots, smiling at him. “I’m afraid I was awake with my drunken friends in the traditional manner of the wedding party,” he says, and she laughs, untangling one of her trailing earrings. “And how did your manuscript treat you?”

“Oh, after a few glasses of wine it wasn’t so bad,” she says, a slight wickedness shadowing her words. “I might even have enjoyed it if I’d had something stronger on hand. Seems like you had a far better night than I did.”

“Perhaps,” he says, and confides, “We found out that another of my friends is getting married. And with two friends expecting a baby and another in the longest relationship she’s been in all the years I’ve known her it was a little exhausting.”

“I still have that to look forward to,” she says, opening her mailbox and pulling out two typed envelopes and a catalogue. “None of my friends are married yet.” Closing and locking the mailbox with a tiny silver key that dangles alongside a delicate gold **W** and a LEGO Wonder Woman keyring, she gives him another smile and says, “Well, it was nice talking to you, Mr. V. Jarvis.”

He smiles slightly at seeing her take the time to even glance at his mailbox for his name, and holds out a hand before he can lose his nerve. “I’m Vision.”

“Wanda,” she says, shaking his hand and holding eye contact for just a second longer than feels strictly platonic. “You’re the first person I’ve met in the building.”

“You haven’t been having these short conversations at the mailboxes with 6A or 3C?” Vision asks, teasing just slightly, and she laughs softly and shakes her head.

“You’re the only one for me, Vizh,” she retorts lightly, and the new nickname has his head spinning a little. It’s been years since anyone except his family called him anything but Vision, and now a name no one has ever called him before, shaped by a beautiful woman who apparently sees him as a friend rather than a neighbour. “So where are your friends headed on their honeymoon?”

“Europe, I believe they’re spending a few days in Paris, a few in Madrid and then a week in Venice before returning home,” he says, and her eyes light up at the answer. “Then it’ll be an engagement party and straight back into planning another wedding.”

“You’re not making me look forward to the part of my life in which my friends start to marry off,” she says, and he concedes with a smile. “If you ever need a break from it all, I’m just upstairs and always prepared to order in and open the wine.”

“I will remember that,” Vision says, and pauses in retrieving his mail to watch her head back towards the stairs, pausing on the first to look back and smile, wiggling her fingers in a small gesture of goodbye. With the usual pile of bills and a letter from his parents in hand, he stands at the table for a second trying to control the inevitable spread of a growing smile.

* * *

**From: Scott**

**7:45am**

**On way to work. Coming to get umbrella. Bringing coffee.**

Swallowing a laugh at how little Scott can communicate before his morning coffee, Vision is standing at his closet trying to decide on the correct shirt and tie combination for his meeting with the superiors when a knock comes at the door. Hastily grabbing the dark red shirt Maria insisted on buying him one Christmas and buttoning it, he crosses the apartment to find Wanda standing at his door, a towel slung over one arm and a harried look in her eyes.

“Hey, sorry to bother you so early, but my shower has decided to just break down this morning and I have to leave for work in half an hour. Can I use yours?” Some doubt or shock must register on his face, because she hastily adds, “I won’t be long, I promise, and I brought all my own products.”

“No, no, please, feel free,” he says, standing aside. “I couldn’t leave you in such a predicament.”

“Thank you so much!” she gushes, smiling at him in a much brighter way than he would expect, given all he’s allowed is for her to use his shower. “I called the super already, but he said no one would be up to fix it until at least six tonight. Nice shirt, by the way. Looks great on you.”

To hide the way the compliment disarms him, he quickly says, “Bathroom’s just through that door. The temperature can fluctuate a little, just make sure you don’t get scalded.”

The distinctive whine of the pipes is rattling through the walls and ceiling when a knock comes at the door, and Vision is hard-pressed to hold in his laugh when he finds Scott outside. His hair is still distinctly wild from sleep, his suit is a little creased and there’s a slight coffee stain at the edge of his tie, though far be it from Vision to point any of these tiny flaws out. The slightly disorganised appearance is all part of Scott’s charm. “I bring the gift of caffeine,” he says, holding out a Starbucks cup and shuffling into the apartment.

“Here’s the umbrella,” Vision says, pulling it from the stand by the door with a flourish and handing it over. “You must stop leaving your belongings here, Scott. Especially your umbrella, it’s winter and it’s been raining so much lately.”

“That’s what newspapers are for,” Scott says sleepily. “God, your apartment is organised. Do you actually have a place for everything? You need a healthy dose of a kid running around in here. You know Cassie keeps angling to visit.”

“I’m sorry, Scott, I’m in and out of the office and I’m always working with this new project,” Vision says, once again protecting the real reason behind everything, hiding his emotions in some dark place at the back of his mind. “I promise, I’ll spend some time with her during all this wedding planning.”

“She’s going to be a flower girl,” Scott says, that usual proud smile lighting up his face as he talks about his daughter. “She’s already started calling Janet and Hank Gran and Gramps. Hank’s wrapped around her finger.”

“Well, like stepmother, like stepdaughter,” Vision jokes, and Scott huffs out a laugh, taking a long drink of his coffee.

The bathroom door swings open in a cloud of unfamiliar scents, a sweet blend of citrus and vanilla, and Vision has to fight not to let Scott see how he softens when he meets Wanda’s eyes. Dressed for work in a neat black dress and dark green blazer, she’s rubbing her hair dry and smiling at him, and he notices the delicate ring that hangs from a chain around her neck and that the heels she’s wearing negate at least half of their height difference.

Scott breaks the moment by dramatically choking on his coffee, coughing loudly and obnoxiously, and when he recovers he looks up smirking. “Vision, there’s a _girl_ in your apartment, at eight o’clock in the morning,” he says, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “You know, when you told us you were seeing someone, I really didn’t think you meant seeing _this much_ of someone.”

Though Vision tries very hard to remain calm, his heartbeat is picking up and his throat is dry and Wanda is just staring at him and Scott is smirking and the words are trailing away from him, blowing away in the wind. “Well, I...I mean...it’s not what you think...this is just...um...”

“Baby, I can’t believe you told your friends about me!” Numb with a complete loss at how to handle the situation, Vision starts unpleasantly obviously when Wanda hooks her hand into his elbow, laying her head on his shoulder. “I have to go get my train, but I’ll be back up later, okay? I might even stay over again tonight.”

To Vision’s utter shock, Wanda turns him with a tug on his arm and raises her head to brush her lips against his cheek. “I’ll be thinking about you all day,” she murmurs, or perhaps purrs, sending Scott into another coughing fit. When she drops back onto her heels, she beams at him, looking for all the world like a woman infatuated, smiles pleasantly at Scott and leaves the apartment with an exaggerated swing in her hips, leaving Vision standing in silent shock and Scott red in the face from coughing, a new collection of sepia flecks on his shirt from the coffee.

“ _Dude_ ,” he finally says, glancing at Vision and the open doorway where Wanda left. “Dude, she is _hot_!”

* * *

Rain is falling in silvery sheets and umbrellas bloom like mushrooms from the crowds leaving the subway station. Tossing the empty coffee cup from the ride into the trash, Vision dodges through the crowds with an advantage that only comes with height, managing to leave the flood behind to get to his apartment, firmly keeping his mind on nothing except what he’s going to make for dinner, cataloguing the entire contents of his kitchen and planning out a list for the week’s grocery shop. Definitely not thinking about Wanda and the fact that the scent of her shampoo still lingered in his apartment when he left for the office and how he’s been reliving the moment she kissed his cheek so frequently and distracting himself so thoroughly from work that the woman in the next cubicle asked him if he was feeling well.

Up in his apartment, he sets his briefcase in its usual spot by the door, and has barely begun to allow himself to relax when there’s a knock at the door. Adjusting his tie to buy a moment of preparation, swallowing to wet his suddenly dry throat, he opens the door to find Wanda there, as he expected. She’s a little ruffled by a day in an office, her lipstick smeared on the rim of the coffee cup in her hand, her hair a little less fluffed out than it was this morning, her umbrella dripping as it swings on its cord from her wrist. “Wanda,” he finally says, the word coming out in more of a croak thanks to his dry throat.

“I’ve been waiting to talk to you all day, I couldn’t concentrate at all on the pitch I sat in on,” she says, her eyes wide and panicked. “Want to come upstairs? I bought more wine, or you can bring up something you usually drink, or I think there’s half a bottle of tequila left over from the last time I hosted pot luck on a Saturday night. We could order pizza, or Chinese, or Thai, or- God, sorry, I’m rambling.”

“It’s quite alright,” he says, and steps out of the apartment, closing the door behind him and locking it, desperately trying not to meet her eyes for fear of betraying that he’s spent the whole day thinking about her too. “I think I feel it is a pizza and wine kind of night.”

They walk upstairs in tense silence, and though he tries to think of something to say the only words at the front of his mind are to tell her he’s been imagining all day that the warmth of her lips against his cheek lingered far longer than it did. Wanda’s apartment is the same square footage and layout as his, but it couldn’t be more separate from his, furnished in rich colours and lit softly by string lights. But he can see how she fits into it, the beautiful woman with a smile that lights up the room in amongst her possessions, a small black cat darting out from the kitchen to weave around her ankles. “This is Sephy,” Wanda says as she crouches down to greet the cat, and Vision smiles at seeing the way she snakes her head into Wanda’s head, mewing happily. “You’re not allergic, are you?”

“Not at all,” Vision assures her. “She’s beautiful.”

“I adopted her from a shelter a friend of a friend works in, she was the last one from a litter born there that no one had claimed yet,” Wanda explains, as Sephy’s purring becomes audible and Wanda’s smile grows. Leaving the cat to shadow her around the room, clearly a devoted pet, she sheds her blazer and curls up on the edge of the sofa, reaching for the landline and asking, “What’s your pizza order?”

“Whatever you would usually order is fine,” he says, and she smiles at him. She orders one half pepperoni and one half mushrooms with the ease of someone who does so often, idly scratching Sephy behind the ears where the cat is nestled in her lap, and he watches her set the phone back in its cradle, among a collection of framed pictures.

Catching him looking, she beckons him over, and he take a seat next to her with his heart pounding faster. In amongst the collection of frames is an obvious graduation picture, Wanda posing and laughing with two other women, a redhead and a brunette. “The redhead is Natasha and the brunette is Darcy,” she says, a warmth in her voice and a softness in her eyes as she talks about her friends. “We were all at college together. Class of 2010!”

“I was class of 2003,” he says, unable to think of anything else to say. “Computer Science.”

“I was Literature, Natasha was Journalism and Darcy was Political Science.” The conversation stalls then, until the buzzer sounds for the pizza delivery and Wanda darts from the couch to retrieve it, leaving Vision sitting alone in her apartment, his mind moving a mile a minute. In the past four hundred and forty-seven days, he hasn’t been alone with a woman not also his friend, never mind ordered food to her apartment in what would’ve been widely considered a date back in his college days.

When the wine has been poured, richly red beneath the soft string lighting, and they’re sitting in a companionable silence eating the pizza, Wanda finally clears her throat and says, “So, about what happened this morning...”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Vision says, the words spilling out of him, driven by a keen need to tell her the truth, not to damage this fledgling friendship with early lies. “At the wedding, my friends were teasing me as they always do about being the only one of our group who is still single. For some reason, I couldn’t take it anymore and when my friend Hope announced that she and another friend are engaged and they questioned if I would have a date to the wedding in just over a year’s time I lied to them and said that I was seeing someone.”

“Someone?” Wanda asks. “Or me?”

“Of course not you, I would never force someone into a situation like that, and I do consider lying about someone specific to be tempting fate,” he says, and she takes a very long sip of her wine. “I don’t know what possessed me to lie to them about it. I believe I was just sick of the teasing.”

“I get it,” Wanda says soothingly, and lays her hand on his. Just for a second, but it still jolts through Vision like electricity, and he distracts himself by downing the contents of his wineglass and hastening to refill. “I know what it’s like to be the only one in a friend group with a terrible love life.”

“You’re terribly young to think that,” he says without thinking, but she laughs kindly rather than mockingly.

“Natasha and her boyfriend have been guaranteed to get married since the day they got together,” she says, refilling her wineglass with the last of their first bottle. “Darcy played the field straight through college but shocked us all last summer when she took up with the guy she cried on every time a relationship of the week went awry. My friend Steve is still with his high school sweetheart ten years after graduation, for God’s sake. The only other single person in my immediate group of friends never commits, but he’s always out on dates with these amazing people having a great time like everyone thinks twentysomethings should be.”

“But there isn’t fulfilment in dating but never committing to something,” he says. “At least to my mind. I’ve seen friends grow as people and as partners only when they commit to somebody and move away from that lifestyle.”

“Even if that’s true, I know that Sam will be out on a date with someone amazing on Valentine’s Day and I’ll be alone with my cat and a bottle of wine pretending it doesn’t bother me seeing Facebook and Instagram just filled with couples who are all so in love,” she says, a shadow of sadness crossing her face. After a moment of spellbound silence, she reaches for the next wine bottle and refills her glass as she asks, “So, who was the guy who saw me in your place this morning?”

“My friend Scott, he was coming by before work to pick up something he left under my couch approximately three months ago,” Vision answers, causing Wanda to laugh into her wineglass. “I am sorry for putting you in that position. I just froze when he implied that we are seeing each other. Normally I would consider myself and my friends a little too old for that kind of teasing.”

“I don’t think people ever grow out of messing with their friends,” she says. “Honestly, I’ve always thought of it as a sign of friendship. You know someone’s comfortable with you when they start teasing you and you can tease back.” Reaching for the last piece of garlic bread, she asks, “Would he have told the rest of your friends about me? And what he saw?”

“I would like to say that my thirty-three year old friend wouldn’t have told the rest of our mid-thirties friend group immediately that he came by my apartment this morning and assumed that a woman I am not related to had stayed over, but it would be a lie,” Vision says, and something almost imperceptible flashes across Wanda’s face.

“Well, he didn’t hear my name, and he’ll only have told them that he caught you with a woman in your apartment early in the morning,” she says. “Let’s take time for it to blow over. If it comes up, just tell them that it’s early days and you don’t want to jinx it. Easy way to keep your friends from prying too much.” Tucking her feet beneath her, she reaches for the TV remote and asks, “So, are you an action movie, an animated movie or a horror movie guy?”

“Let’s say an animated movie,” he says, and she smiles at him, switching to Netflix and beginning to browse.

It’s only when he eventually leaves, slightly too warm and clumsy from a touch too much wine, that he realises neither of them brought up the fact that she kissed his cheek and pretended to have feelings for him. If only for a split second.

* * *

Another Sunday brings love songs to the radio and delivery men bringing flowers to the building, and leaves Vision alone in his apartment. Tony and Pepper are still away on their honeymoon, Scott and Hope are spending Valentine’s Day with Hope’s parents so Cassie can begin to know them as grandparents rather than just Hank and Janet, Rhodey and Carol are spending their last Valentine’s Day before they become parents together and Sharon and Maria have flown to London for the weekend to meet Sharon’s aunts and spend the kind of romantic weekend together Vision wouldn’t have though Maria capable of. Being alone on Valentine’s Day isn’t something he’s had to cope with for a very long time, and for a moment his fingers twitch, thinking of calling Bruce out for a few drinks as the clock moves around to seven o’clock at night, the time when so many single people will be heading out into the bars in hopes of meeting someone special.

But Bruce is busy at work, and Vision has seen proof, courtesy of Facebook, that he’s definitely interested in the woman who has just been transferred to the laboratory he works in. Far be it from him to disturb the beginnings of a romance. Instead he gives up on finding a radio station that isn’t playing requested love songs and settles on silence, continuing to mentally catalogue every book he owns in hopes of coming upon something he feels like reading for the evening before he collapses in front of the TV and whatever reruns of sitcoms it has for him today.

The knock on the door distracts his attention and he moves to answer it, his heart beating a touch faster when he finds Wanda outside, distractingly pretty in a short black skirt with her lips painted deep crimson, hair falling around shoulders covered only by the slender straps of her red top. Behind her is a young man outfitted in a green shirt and black jeans, a leather jacket thrown over one arm and a casual grin on his face. “Vizh, this is my friend Sam,” Wanda says, and Vision smiles politely at him. “We’re heading out to a party, thought you might want to come. Our friend Darcy is hosting a stoplight party.”

“It’s an excuse for people to pair off and go home together if they’re both wearing green, and for our gossip-monger of a friend to find out whose relationships are on the rocks by who’s wearing yellow,” Sam says easily, and Wanda smacks him in the chest. “See, I’m all for it, so I’m wearing green. Wanda’s not about that life, so she’s wearing red.”

“I’m wearing _red_ because it’s _Valentine’s Day_ , and, if you’ll recall, it was you and Bucky who decided red was my signature colour in junior year,” she snaps, and Sam merely grins at her, not even appearing wounded.

“Ah, yes, the night of too many Jaegerbombs,” he says, and Wanda rolls her eyes. “So, what do you think, neighbour? Want to come out for the night with us?”

“We don’t have to go to Darcy’s party,” Wanda says quickly. “We can just drop in and go out for drinks. No one likes being alone on Valentine’s Day.”

For a moment, he thinks about it. But the thought of a party - not a Stark Industries or Pym Technologies gala, with expensive suits and expensive wine and polite conversation - takes him back to college and the few years afterwards of trying to cling to that freeing time in their lives. Drinks they generously called cocktails mixed with anything they could find, dressing older than their years and attending every party they could find, and always, _always_ , being the one with the girl. The pretty girl, the one everyone looked at, curled up in his lap after too many shots of something cheap and sickly sweet, stumbling home at his side and sleeping next to him all night.

“No, it’s okay, I have plans for the evening,” he finds himself saying, and Wanda’s smile falters momentarily. “I’m probably past loud parties anyway. Enjoy your night.”

The duo leave, and he takes a moment to remember when he was like that, young enough to still feel that life could be nothing but fun. Tony was always one for a party back in college, dragging Vision and Rhodey along. The strength of their friendship was born in the corners of parties, Vision always nervous about approaching any girl and Rhodey kind enough to stay with him until the right girl approached him first. Some nights he can remember it perfectly, the loud music and the taste of cheap beer and the crowds of bleary-eyed students drooping over their notes the next morning, drowning their headaches in coffee or energy drinks.

Alone by choice, now, Vision makes himself enough pasta to have leftovers for another night and sits on the couch, letting the TV suck him into a fictional life just enough to leave his own behind. He really should get a cat. Just something, so he’s not spending so many nights alone.

The evening becomes night around him, and still he sits alone, indulging in a glass of wine to stave off a little of the loneliness. His laptop offers no solace, every page brimming with love stories and acts of grand romance, and Facebook is filled with posts from both halves of the couples he knows, grateful to have each other.

It’s two o’clock in the morning when a knock on his door distracts him, and when he answers it he finds Sam there once again, looking worse for wear and holding very tightly to Wanda, who smiles at Vision with glassy eyes. “Hey man, hate to dump her on you like this, but the cab driver’s waiting and I gotta get home,” he says. “She’ll be fine, has her keys and everything. Just can’t leave her alone.”

He’s gone before Vision can ask another question, running unsteadily down the stairs, and he can only look at Wanda, her lipstick smudged off by glasses and bottles and swaying where she stands. “Did you have a good evening?” he asks, and she beams.

“So great, Darcy always throws the best parties, I’m gonna have her organise my birthday,” she says, as Vision guides her to the couch before she falls over. “Everyone was there, all my friends, even Thor. And there were so many people in green, Sam was having the time of his life. And everyone was supposed to bring a bottle, but most people brought more, so there was a lot of wine."

“I can see that,” he says, swallowing a slight chuckle at the way she curls up on his couch immediately, eyes already fluttering with exhaustion. It’s a familiar routine, getting the glass of water and making the dry toast for the person who has taken it just a little too far.

He finds her curled up on the edge of the couch tracing fingers over the embroidery on the blanket he keeps draped over the armrest, shoes kicked off on the rug, exposing the hole in her tights. She beams up at him as he sets the plate on the table and presses the glass into her hand. “You’re such a gentleman,” she says. “You should’ve come to the party! Our friend Daisy was there, she got dumped right before Christmas and meeting a nice new guy would’ve cheered her up.”

“I’m a little old for stoplight parties, Wanda,” he says, and she lets out a snort.

“You’re never too old for a good party,” she says sternly. “And stoplight parties are great fun. I met my college boyfriend at one. Wearing green is a great conversation starter. And then tonight I had a great time even in red because I got to just sit and be Sam’s wingman. Jane and Thor wore the exact same shade of green, it was so obnoxious and yet so cute. And you’d like Daisy, she’s kinda wild and fun and knows about computers and stuff. Perfect for you.”

“I’m not a fan of being set up,” Vision tells her, watching her sip at the water and taking a piece of toast for himself. “My friends have tried many times, and I’ve never clicked with any of the women they think should be perfect for me.”

“God, that’s a song I’ve sung,” Wanda says, half a groan, rolling her eyes in a way that serves to exaggerate the dark smudges of make-up beneath them. “Darcy is the worst for trying to set people up, especially since she got so loved up with Ian. She’s always trying to hunt guys down for me. She once set me up with the guy who just dumped Daisy. And she was all over me tonight, when not trying to find out what was going on with the people wearing yellow. Telling me I shouldn’t have worn red and trying to pick out a guy for me.”

“I know how that feels,” Vision says sympathetically, thinking of nights filled with wine and small talk, and Scott trying to point out the women he thought might be of interest. Not to mention the short-lived attempt to set him up with one of Pepper’s sorority sisters at her and Tony’s engagement party.

“I ended up telling her I was seeing someone, just so she’d shut up about it,” Wanda confesses, and Vision’s heart skips. “She wanted to know more, obviously, so I told her he lives in my building and it’s new. And she wanted to see a picture, so I gave her a quick glimpse of you.” She hiccups softly into her glass. “I didn’t mean to.”

“No, no, it’s...quite alright,” Vision says, wondering if she can hear the hesitation in his voice, or somehow knows that he can’t quite breathe and his heart is pounding. “It seems we’ve both gotten ourselves into awkward situations by lying to our friends under pressure.”

“We should just ride it out,” Wanda says decisively, slamming her empty glass down on the table and curling up on the couch, looking up at him through sleepily half-closed eyes. “Pretend for a bit. Gets our friends off our backs.”

By the time that suggestion has sunk in and he can look at her, she’s asleep. With a soft smile, he pulls a blanket over her and leaves her to go to bed himself. But he lies awake, thinking about it, imagining how it would be if they did just follow through. After all, they get along. There’s a rapport between them. And he would be grateful to get his friends to stop trying to set him up and asking about his love life. Wanda is not Ellen. Nothing like her. They couldn’t even accuse him of failing to move on by simply dating a very similar woman.

  
As the sun rises on him sitting awake, getting a jump start on the day’s work, he’s made his decision.


	2. in which our players' friends are embarrassing

**A/N:** Welcome to a ridiculously long chapter for the fact that it's mostly just me really enjoying talking about backstory and ridiculous friendships! Hope everyone enjoys the shameless friendship fluff and cuteness! :)

* * *

**From: Maria**

**Hope they're not all too hard on your new girlfriend tonight. Sharon and I would be there if we weren't at her dad's sixtieth. Have a good night!**

**To: Maria**

**They weren't bad with Sharon, I don't expect them to be any worse with Wanda. Enjoy the party.**

**From: Hope**

**I know you're you, but I also know you're in the honeymoon phase of this relationship, so this is your reminder our reservations are in half an hour. Don't get too caught up with her ;)**

**To: Hope**

**Very funny. We're about to leave.**

Tucking his phone away and adjusting his tie one last time, Vision raises a hand to knock on the bathroom door. "Wanda, the car will be here any minute. Are you ready?"

With a click, the lock turns and he is momentarily overwhelmed when Wanda emerges, dark hair twisted up stylishly, manicured nails smoothing over her black dress. Her lips are perfectly crimson, and her outlined eyes are looking up at him in concern. "Is this okay?" she asks, and he snaps out of gazing at her to see how nervous she is.

"You look stunning," he tells her, truthfully, and she flushes. "You don't need to be terrified, you know. They're just my friends."

"But they're like real adults," she says, and he smiles. "You're friends with _Tony Stark_!"

"Trust me, he's not as impressive in person," he says, and it makes her laugh. He offers a hand as she steps into her heels, negating half of their height difference immediately, watches her gracefully crouch to buckle them and spritz perfume over herself.

When he offers an arm, she rests her hand in the crook of his elbow immediately, and it feels so natural that he wishes it was real. One last glance in the mirror for both of them, and she smiles. "We make a handsome couple," she remarks. "Don't let me forget to get a picture. Clint has been even worse than Darcy since she _accidentally_ told everyone I was seeing someone. You'll have to meet them soon."

"I look forward to it," he says, truthfully, and she beams at him. They walk down the stairs to the waiting taxi in step, like a real couple would, and she leans on him gently during the drive out to the restaurant Tony picked out.

With the terrible lack of parking spaces on a Saturday night, they have to walk twenty minutes to the restaurant, and Wanda clears her throat and says, "Right, pop quiz before we get there. We can each ask the other ten questions about ourselves. See if all that information we crammed into our heads in one night stuck."

It's a jolting reminder that they're not a couple, didn't learn each other inside and out over the course of late nights and early mornings. They crammed a three-month relationship's worth of trivial knowledge into one night, _Project Runway_ playing in the background and homemade pasta steaming between them. But Vision doesn't let that sink in deep enough hold him back, instead asking the opening question. "What's my full name?"

"Victor William Jarvis. What's mine?"

"Wanda Magdalena Maximoff. What am I allergic to?"

"Shellfish and hazelnuts. Where am I from originally?"

"Propetrov, Sokovia. You moved over here for college and liked it so much you never left. Why did I move here?"

"The usual - wanted to get away from your parents and New York is supposed to be the best city to find yourself in. What's my boss' name?"

"Alphonso Mackenzie, but the entire office calls him Mack. What's my official job title?"

A moment of silence, and then he grins and she smacks at him. "You said even your friends struggle to remember what you actually do! Something long and complicated with computers that means you work all the time and never have any time for your girlfriend." She affects a melancholy expression, eyes wide and hand theatrically at her heart. "We'll be okay, right? Your friends aren't going to grill us on how much we know about each other to make sure we're really dating. People don't fake-date in real life."

"Don't tell him I told you this, but when he had the crisis of realising he was in love with Pepper Tony had me, Bruce and Rhodey spend an entire weekend watching romantic films with him so he could brainstorm how he would tell her," Vision says, and Wanda lets out a peal of laughter. "So he might notice a couple who are pretending to date."

"Did you watch _The Notebook_?" she asks, and he nods, smiling helplessly at her mirth. "Did you cry?"

"We'll say there were a lot of tissues gotten through that weekend and leave it at that," he says, and she giggles, linking her arm through his and dodging gracefully around a puddle.

"So how did he tell her he was in love with her?" she asks. "Did he run to find her at a New Year's Eve party and tell her that when you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with someone you want the rest of your life to start right away? Did he stand outside her window with a boombox blasting their song? Did he show up on her doorstep with cards confessing his love?"

"And you laugh at us spending a weekend watching romantic films," Vision teases, and Wanda shrugs. "You can ask him yourself." She looks up at the silver lettering swirling out the restaurant's name, and for a moment he sees vulnerability and fear in her eyes.

But she takes a deep breath, pins on a smile and curves herself closer into his side. "Let's go be the most obnoxious new couple in the world," she says, and he smiles before they walk inside and into the pretense.

Suited staff take their coats and show them to their table, the rest of the group already ensconced and served their drinks. Tony and Pepper are both tanned and smiling with leftover honeymoon glow, Rhodey gives Wanda an up-and-down look and Vision a none-too-subtle thumbs up, and Scott smirks. "I believe we've met," he says, holding out a hand to Wanda as she takes her seat.

"We have," she says. "As I remember it, I was just trying to spend some time with my boyfriend before we both had to go to work and you interrupted." The eyebrow she raises leaves no doubt as to what she means, and the implication brings colour rushing to Vision's face.

Tony laughs loudly at Scott's expression, and claps Vision on the shoulder. "Knew you still had it in you, big guy," he says. "Lovely to meet you, Wanda. We've heard so much about the cute girl living upstairs from our friend here."

"So how did our socially inept Vision ask you out?" Rhodey asks, and Vision groans internally at the realisation that this will be an entire evening of his friends teasing him. "Normally he runs in the other direction when he sees a pretty girl."

"Well, he never ran from me," Wanda says, and Vision briefly considers that it's true. It's not the mere desire to tease the person bringing a new partner to the table that makes Rhodey say it - he saw it the most, saw the way Vision would change direction at parties whenever the natural progression of eye contact in a crowded room meant he would be expected to approach a girl. The only thing that stopped him running away from Ellen was that she ran to him and kept him anchored at her side.

"We see each other every morning while we're getting our mail, and one morning I was just courageous enough to ask if she wanted to get coffee when we were both finished with work," he says, and he can see the beginnings of a pout on Carol's lips at the way he tells the story, the way he tells every story, leaving the details of colour and sound and scent out of them.

"And then coffee turned into dinner turned into staying up all night talking and watching the sunrise," Wanda says, just enough dreaminess in her voice to make the story plausible. "We've been together ever since." After they've all ordered, she turns to Pepper and asks, "So, I heard there was an entire weekend of research before Tony confessed his love to you. How did it end up happening?"

"So the illustrious men of our friend group decided to take Tony to Mexico for a week before his thirtieth birthday, and I got a call from Tony after too many tequila shots telling me that everyone else was asleep and all he could think about was that he missed me and that I made him want to be better," Pepper recounts, and Vision remembers the morning well, Tony still stinking of alcohol and cigarettes, half-drunk, panicking all around their hotel room that he'd screwed up everything. "I picked them up at the airport, and as soon as he'd shoved Scott out onto the sidewalk we drove around Manhattan for an hour while he screwed up the courage to tell me how he felt."

"Didn't you then barge into mine and Carol's place, drink an entire bottle of whiskey on an empty stomach and tell us it was the happiest you'd ever been right before you passed out?" Rhodey asks, and Tony doesn't even seem embarrassed, but grins proudly and nods. "I nursed you the whole of the next day, and you wouldn't shut up about how great being in love is." Tony's self-satisfied smirk and retelling of the story of how Rhodey met Carol fills the time until their food arrives, and the hum of conversation quiets.

"So how does this all work?" Wanda asks, three glasses of wine in and flushed, leaning more on Vision, more into the part. "Have you all known each other since college?"

"Not quite," Vision answers her. "Tony and Rhodey went to high school together and had an apartment when we were at college. I happened to share a class with Tony, and for some reason Howard Stark's son decided he liked me."

"As I recall, my actual first words were 'Victor, buddy, I'm gonna teach you how to live!' after I saw you completely failing to flirt with Melinda May," Tony says, and Vision shakes his head at him, pretending he doesn't notice how much Wanda is laughing. That it doesn't make his heart skip.

Used to his friends interjecting facts whenever they feel like it during story-telling, he continues, "Bruce and I were on the same floor in the dorms and used to study together in the library. Pepper worked for Howard and Tony's mother decided to introduce her to us. Rhodey and Carol met through work. Hope's father and Howard went into business partnership eight years ago."

"And I'm the idiot Hope picked up in a wine bar and managed to fall for," Scott says, to Hope rolling her eyes but not bothering to hide her smile. "Friendship is magic!"

"What happened to Melinda May?" Rhodey asks suddenly. "She really was gorgeous. There was always complete silence in the library when she walked through."

"Eloped with Andrew Garner right after graduation, divorced him a year later and is now engaged to a security consultant and works in something top secret involving international affairs," Bruce answers, and Rhodey gives him a look. "What? Whenever I'm waiting for something to happen in the lab I check Facebook. I could tell you what happened to a lot of the class of 2003. Jasper Sitwell went bald early and vacations in Spain with his wife and three kids."

"I think I ignored almost every friend request from most of our year because they were massive assholes," Rhodey says, and Tony snorts. "Anyway, Wanda, we're talking far too much about ourselves and the good old days. What's your story? Why did you pick our Vision, of all the people out there?"

"Thanks, Rhodey," Vision says, and Wanda laughs and leans against him, wrapping her hand around his arm like they really are a couple.

"I picked him because, unlike so many other guys you meet in your twenties, he's actually a gentleman," she says. "My cat liked him on sight, cats have good instincts. And there's not much to tell about me. I work in publishing. I have a group of friends who tease me as much as you guys tease Vizh. I have a cat. And I really do like your friend, so I hope you approve of me."

There's a hint of insecurity to her voice, a shyness in her eyes, and Carol leans across the table to take her hand. "Trust me, Wanda, all this interrogation is for show," she says. "We trust each other to make smart romantic decisions."

"I thought we took that clause out of the friendship contract when Hope decided to ask her one night stand over here for coffee and decided he was the one," Tony says, ruffling Scott's hair teasingly and ignoring the glares.

"An engagement would indicate that a relationship is right, Tony," Carol says, glancing proudly down at her own engagement ring.

"Really?" Tony asks in a pantomime performance of shock. "I had no idea you were only supposed to propose marriage when you were sure you wanted to spend the rest of your life with someone. No wonder Hank and Janet are divorced."

"Remember when you hit on my mom at the party celebrating the company merger?" Hope teases, but Tony is as impenetrable as ever when it comes to their usual jabs.

"She liked it," he says firmly.

"That's true, babe," Scott points out. "She always refers to Tony as an extremely charming young man."

"My mom has no taste in men," Hope says, ignoring Tony's expression. "She married my dad."

The evening continues on in teasing, glasses of wine and good food, and Vision is truly satisfied with how it goes. They don't have to fake a kiss to look like a couple, and Wanda stays curled into his side until they decide to call it a night, despite switching from wine to soft drinks after dessert. The rain is still coming down outside, and she smiles and kisses his cheek when he puts his umbrella up to shield them both. "Night, lovebirds!" Tony calls as his private car draws up, Happy giving Vision a wave from the driver's seat. "Don't stay up too late rattling headboards!"

"You're one to talk about rattling headboards, Stark!" Rhodey bellows. "We shared an apartment in college, remember?!"

"I like your friends," Wanda says as they start walking for the subway station. She's standing so close to him that he can smell her perfume and her coat keeps brushing against his hand, and she looks up with her eyes bright and her lipstick still perfectly in place, and he wonders if this was truly a good idea. "You're different with them. You loosen up."

"Tony, Rhodey and Bruce have known me for half my life," he says. "We grew up a lot together."

"So they knew you in your college days, huh?" she teases. "I'd have loved to see you then. I bet you always wore sweaters and cardigans and studied in the library instead of partying and never noticed when girls thought you were cute."

"I'll have you know I went to my fair share of parties," he says, and she laughs. "Everything I remember from my twenty-first is mostly stories I was told the next day."

"I'll remember to ask Tony for those next time we have dinner," she says, and he can't help the bubble of excitement when she mentions it like an inevitability. Like they won't just ride out their lies for a few weeks and then pretend to break up. "Be prepared, by the way. I got a text from Darcy during dinner telling me she's hosting pot luck dinner on Friday and will no longer be my friend if I don't bring you."

"I can't wait," he says truthfully, and she smiles. Under the glow of a streetlamp that turns the falling rain gold, she reaches up and kisses him on the mouth, soft and sweet. His first kiss in over a year. Her lips are warm, slick with lipstick, and when she breaks away first his eyes stay closed for a moment, savouring it.

"I thought we should practice," she says, a slight flush in her cheeks. "It'll be impossible to keep my friends from insisting on seeing us kiss."

The subway is quiet enough that she doesn't need to sit close to him, but she does. They walk back to the apartment building in the chill of the late night, and she gives him such a sweet smile before continuing up the stairs to her own apartment that he lies awake for an hour remembering every detail and blushing like he's still the boy who ran away from pretty girls.

* * *

Rain has stopped hammering down by the time the dinner party at Darcy's comes around, replaced by a biting wind. Wanda is drawing her coat closer around her, walking a little quicker despite her heels, and Vision hurries after her, wincing as the bottles of wine he's carrying clink loudly against each other. "How late do these dinner parties usually go?" he asks, and Wanda scoffs.

"Please, they're not dinner parties," she says. "Dinner parties imply candlelight and napkins and sensible conversation and only one glass of wine per person. We started doing this in college when it was a good way to get some food in our stomachs and then pre-game until we went out, and it just kept up when we all settled in New York. We all drink a bit too much, stay up a bit too late and reminisce."

"That explains needing to bring four bottles of wine," Vision says, and she glances back at him, eyes glinting with mischief.

"There's tequila too." With that she presses a painted nail to the buzzer, saying, "Hey Ian, it's me and my plus one," when there's an answer.

"Do they live together?" Vision asks as they start the walk up the six flights of stairs - the elevator is broken, the _OUT OF ORDER_ sign on the floor implying it's been that way for a long time. "I thought you'd told me it was recent."

"They don't, but Ian spends so much time here I'm shocked when it's not him answering the door," she says, and sure enough when the door is opened it's by a young man in a worn, faded navy sweater.

"Hey Wanda," he says cheerfully, holding out a hand to take her coat. Vision tries to keep from staring at her for too long, despite pretending to be her boyfriend, but it's a difficult task to follow through when she looks so stunning, short skirt and hair loose.

"Wanda!" A dark-haired woman Vision presumes to be Darcy comes running through the room and drags Wanda into a hug, grinning from ear to ear. "And _hello_!" She's openly staring at him, her eyes gleaming, and he smiles weakly. "You must be the new boyfriend. I'll admit, I had my doubts when Wanda told us she'd met a really cute guy in her apartment building, but I take it back. You're hot."

"Um...thank you." She laughs at his obvious surprise, arm around Wanda's waist.

"I'm not sharing him with you, Darce," Wanda says, and Darcy laughs. "Are we the last here?"

"We were expecting you later than this!" comes another voice, this one a man with his overlong hair tied in a messy bun, a scuffed leather jacket and an easy smile. "We remember when you were going out with Triplett and you two were always an hour late to everything."

"Must you guys always embarrass me in front of new boyfriends?" Wanda asks, even as she crosses the room and leans over the back of the couch to hug the man in question. "Vizh, meet Bucky."

"It's our duty as your undying squad, babe," Sam says, carrying a tray of wine glasses to the table in the centre of the room. "Hey, man, how are you doing? Can't say I'm surprised you turned out to be dating Wanda. She practically begged me to let her see you after the party on Valentine's Day."

"I did not!" Wanda shouts, spots of colour flaring high on her cheeks. "And I'd had way too much wine, I can't be held responsible for anything I said or did."

"Being drunk doesn't change your personality, darling, it just breaks your walls down," Sam tells her, blowing a kiss, and she glares at him.

While Darcy and Ian move around organising food and drinks, somehow filling every wine glass as soon as they're empty, Wanda is beaming and clutching Vision's hand, steering him around the room. "I want you to meet Natasha and Clint," she says as she pulls him onto the couch, next to a blonde man in a purple T-shirt with a striking redhead in his lap. "You guys, this is Vision."

"So what exactly are your intentions with our Wanda?" Clint asks immediately, adjusting Natasha in his lap and fixing Vision with a glare that actually makes him shrink back a little.

"Ignore them, Vizh," Wanda says breezily. "They like to pretend to be my parents even though I'm older than both of them."

"Hey, my birthday is only sixteen days after yours!" Clint protests. "Remember our joint twenty-fifth?"

"You certainly don't, after all the vodka you poured down yourself," Natasha says coolly. "I remember the day after when you had to cancel on your brother and spend the entire day in bed very slowly eating popcorn for nourishment."

"That's behind us," Clint says, making Natasha laugh. "Anyway, Wanda, I'm preparing him for meeting your actual parents. Your dad is a hard-ass."

"Don't remind me," Wanda says, and Vision makes a mental note to ask her about her family at a later date. "Hey Darce! Is anyone else joining us?!"

"Fitzsimmons said they'd be over later, but Jemma's stuck at work so they might only make it for the drinking," Darcy calls back from the kitchen. "Steve is coming over when he gets done saving the world one orphan at a time, shouldn't be much longer. Thor is working late with a new litter of kittens so Jane is naturally also working late, mapping stars or something. Daisy is on a date with some new guy. Oh, and guess what? I have gossip!"

"You always have gossip," Sam says, rolling his eyes as he cracks open a second beer, and Darcy sticks her tongue out at him as she returns to the room with a tray laden in luridly-coloured shot glasses. "You really made jello shots? What are we, dumb college kids again?"

"Fuck off, Wilson, everyone loves jello shots," Darcy snaps at him. "Anyway, the gossip. So you know how Jessica was wearing yellow at my party, and I spent the entire night trying to get her to tell me exactly why that was when she hasn't dated anyone in years?"

"I remember you trying to go shot for shot with her so she'd tell you and then falling off your kitchen counter," Bucky says calmly, and Darcy shoots a glare at him.

"Anyway, I finally got her to tell me when I agreed to go to her kickboxing class with her because Trish was busy, and it was because of Luke," she says smugly. "Because literally four days before he told her he really likes her but felt like it was insulting to Reva's memory to act on it, so she wore yellow to keep guys away. And now her and Luke are finally official! Dating! Boyfriend and girlfriend!" She grins to herself, then hastily adds, "Oh, and Karen and Foggy may be officially kaput. She still has a massive crush on that Frank guy."

"Aw, poor Foggy," Wanda says, then, as if in afterthought, adds to Vision, "Sorry, these are almost all people we went to college with. Darcy likes to keep up with what happened to everyone and makes sure she stays in touch with everyone just enough to ask intensely personal questions and tell us all about it."

"Please, don't poor Foggy us when we know he could have Matt if he'd just get his head out of his ass," Bucky says. "They're worse than me and Stevie were before his mom got us to admit it that one Christmas."

"Are we telling the how we got together story to our new friend?" comes a voice, one that belongs to the intimidatingly built man walking through the door, his initial impression softened by a faded plaid shirt and paint stains on his hands. "Hi, I'm Steve Rogers. Wanda's told us so much about you."

Vision shakes the hand the new arrival offers, trying not to feel shy in this group of people. "I'm Vision," he says. "And I'd love to hear the story of how you two got together. Goodness knows my friends told Wanda far too many stories when she met them."

"Hey, I loved hearing those stories," Wanda protests gently, leaning on him and smiling. "It's nice hearing about you when you were an irresponsible college student. You always seemed so put-together to me before."

"You wanna see irresponsible college student, I can pull out that video of you dancing to Pitbull at your twenty-first," Clint says, and Wanda turns her head to glare at him so fast that her hair smacks Vision across the face.

"I thought we agreed to stop using my behaviour at my twenty-first against me," she says, and Vision can picture it, the pretty woman pressed against his side dancing with this group of friends in the middle of a party, no doubt being watched by every man in the room. "And you wanna talk about embarrassing behaviour in college, there's still a video on Facebook of you performing Miley Cyrus at the karaoke bar from just before graduation."

"I'm still shocked by the fact that Triplett kept dating you after your twenty-first," Sam says, a cheeky grin on his face. "I wouldn't have the patience to deal with my partner being that bad at a party."

"That's because you're usually the one who's that bad, Wilson," Natasha says, and Sam grins smugly at her.

"I thought I was supposed to be telling Vision the story of how Bucky and I got together, not listening to you lot annoying each other about drunken nights that happened seven years ago and we would've forgotten by now if we didn't keep telling every new person we meet the stories," Steve says, and silence falls. "So, Vision, Bucky and I have literally been friends since childhood. My dad died when I was four, Buck's mom was a grief counsellor my mom went to, and they used to leave me and Buck to play outside while they were talking. Then we did some growing up, and I was maybe about fourteen when I realised I was in love with him. Didn't say anything, obviously. Tried to keep it hidden. Came out as bi at school, and Buck came out too not much later. Then he spent Christmas with me and my mom in our junior year, and she kept me up late on Christmas Eve getting a bit sappy and teary with her only child, and basically told me to stop wasting time."

"So the idiot woke me up at five am on Christmas Day to tell me he loved me and give me the best goddamn kiss of my life," Bucky says, and even though there's a jokiness to his tone Vision can see how his eyes go bright and his smile goes soft and he looks at Steve with so much bliss and tenderness. It clenches at his heart, his mind spinning around the golden memories of when he would twine his fingers through Ellen's and they'd tell the story of how they met, interspersed with soft smiles at each other. "We've never been apart since."

"It's true," Sam says. "I third-wheeled them at college for a whole year before Wanda, Darce, Nat and Clint came into our lives. You wanna hear any other stories, Vision? We have a whole night ahead of us."

"Hey, I spent all day cooking for you lot, and you can eat it before you start swapping stories about the good old days," Darcy says, setting enormous plates of food onto the dining table, along with several more bottles of wine. "And let me get the tequila out before storytime starts. Can we play the good old-fashioned 'drink every time Wanda gets embarrassed about something she did years ago' game?"

Wanda groans and buries her blushing face in her hands, while Vision smiles to watch her. "I hate you all. Remind me why I'm friends with you?"

"Our sparkling personalities and dashing good looks," Clint retorts instantly, and Vision can't help a slight chuckle as he puts an arm around Wanda and coaxes her to the table despite her embarrassment and mumbling about how much she hates her friends.

In time, the pair that everyone refers to as 'Fitzsimmons' arrive just in time for Darcy to start pouring shots, with leftover pizza in their hands and the distinct aura of a couple madly in love around them. Vision shakes hands with first Leo Fitz then Jemma Simmons, acknowledges their comments about how much they've heard about him and settles back onto the couch with a bottle of wine in hand. He's sure it's just because of limited seating that Wanda curls herself into his lap, holding a shot glass carefully level. But she plays the couple so well that he has to keep telling himself it isn't real, a deeper part of him wishing this beautiful, joyful woman was his.

"What stories can we tell Vision tonight, then?" Sam says, actually rubbing his hands together in gleeful anticipation. "We have until the sun rises and enough alcohol to get us through. I'll take suggestions of where to start."

"I always liked the one about how you were trying to hit on me the night we met but you had so little game I ended up with Clint instead," Natasha says, smirking, and laughter breaks out when Sam throws a plastic shot glass at her. "Seriously, though, Vision. Sam has no game."

"I'll have you know the people love me, I have a whole catalogue of people I could call for a date if I felt like it," Sam says petulantly. "Steve's mom thinks I'm cute."

"Sarah just thinks it's funny that you flirt with her," Bucky says, completely straight-faced. "And why don't we tell Wanda stories? Like the one where she made Clint spend ten dollars at the fair to win her a giant teddy bear because he's hopelessly taken in by pretty girls giving him puppy dog eyes."

"I was also trying to win myself the bow and arrow set," Clint says sulkily. "And you're just jealous I'm the favourite. I remember when you told me you had a weird 'the road not taken' crush on Tasha."

"Can I hear the friendship origin story?" Vision asks, and Wanda smiles and curls herself further into him, and even though his thighs are started to fall asleep from her sitting on him he doesn't attempt to move her. "I've just always liked hearing how people meet and organically fall into friendship."

"Okay, that I can do!" Sam says, and stretches in preparation. "Right, so, obviously Steve and Bucky were high school sweethearts and came to college together. But they didn't room together, so I got stuck with Bucky. We hated each other for a good month, then he kinda rescued me from a shitty Halloween date by pretending to be my boyfriend and I decided he was cool, and the same with Steve when I was allowed to meet him. We met Clint before any of the girls when he came to college, had to watch over him at a freshers thing when he'd had too much to drink because Steve batted his eyelashes at Bucky and got him to volunteer as help at freshers so obviously I did it too. As the ever-lovely Nat has already told you, I was trying to get her to go out with me at a party, but that stopped as soon as she saw Clint. Her and Wanda were already study buddies because they were taking the same Literature class, and a girl I was kinda seeing at the time was Darcy's sorority sister so we all went to one of her parties and decided we liked her. Not sure why."

"Fuck you," Darcy says coolly, downing a jello shot. "And you pretty much dated that entire sorority. Which particular one was it that got you to come over?"

"Remember Bobbi Morse?" Sam asks. "It was during the making him jealous stage of her relationship with Hunter."

"They're about to have a baby now," Steve remarks idly. "You're not the only one capable of checking Facebook during downtime, Darcy."

"Aw, Stevie, you just wanted to see what happened to Hunter because you liked his accent," Bucky teases.

"Ian was Darcy's put-upon friend, obviously always in love with her and never doing anything about it until we were long out of college," Sam continues as if no one ever interrupted. "Wanda met Daisy in the library one night at four am when she was having hysterics over accidentally deleting an essay she had due in the morning that she only started that night and Dais came over and recovered the file for her. Then Dais introduced us to Fitzsimmons over here. And, when you meet Jane and Thor, you'll know we met them because Darcy interned for Jane's mentor to get extra-credit."

"Erik loved me, I made him coffee and told jokes to cover up the fact I knew fuck-all about astrophysics," Darcy says smugly. "And you forgot the part when Jane owes me a life debt for making her wake up and smell the super-hot guy she was clearly into. Her and Thor would still be dancing around each other if I hadn't stepped in. I got Wanda and Trip together too."

"Screw you, you did not," Wanda says, and Vision can't help the twinge of jealousy that the conversation has turned to Wanda's ex, a man she actually dated and was probably in love with. Clearly, theirs wasn't such a terrible break-up that her friends hardly dare to even bring up the subject.

"Did too, that was my stoplight party where I caught you two hardcore making out in some girl's bed and made Steve take you home before you made a bad decision," Darcy says, and Wanda squeaks and buries her face in her hands, blushing furiously. "And I got him to come to that."

"I think you'll find I did," Leo says. "I was the one who already knew him."

"And I was the one who decided he was perfect for Wanda and invited him to the party," Darcy retorts.

"You invited him for you," Jemma says sweetly, ignoring the betrayed look Darcy gives her. "But then Matt Murdock asked you out."

"Listen, when a cute lawyer-in-training asks you out, you say yes and generously give the guy you had your eye on before over to your friend," Darcy says, and Natasha rolls her eyes expressively. "I'll never understand why you and Trip broke up, Wanda. He was the best."

"He wanted to join the army, Darce, and I wasn't about to go into a long distance relationship with my college boyfriend and expect it to work out in the end," Wanda says, her tone suggesting she's explained herself a hundred times. "And I don't wanna talk about my ex in front of my boyfriend. Can we talk about the time Sam dated Trish and ended up ending it because Jessica scared the shit out of him giving him the 'break her heart and I break your face' speech?"

"No, I wanna talk about when Sam asked Jessica out last summer and lied that his non-existent cat had run away the night they were supposed to go out because he saw Luke post a cryptic tweet about not being brave enough to talk about his feelings," Steve says wickedly.

"Why must you all make fun of my dating history?" Sam asks melodramatically.

"Because you've dated just about everyone we still talk to from college who was inclined towards men and has been single for any amount of time while you've known them," Natasha says. "You were a lot of people's bad drunken decision."

"Screw you, Romanoff, I was a great drunken decision," Sam says. "And I wanna hear Wanda's boyfriend's origin story. What's your life been like, Vision? Probably not as full of bad drunken decision as Wanda's."

"I will kill you," Wanda says. "Remember my dad is a cop. And you were so scared you didn't crack a single joke the one time you met him." She shifts her weight in Vision's lap, links their fingers together and says, "Go on, babe, tell this nosy bunch about yourself."

"Not much to tell," Vision says, latterly realising he's echoing Wanda's words from when his own friends asked her to talk about herself. "My family owns a hotel chain that makes enough money I could persuade them to fund me moving over here for college and eventually only going back for family events and the occasional holiday. I have a younger brother who's now taken over running the business and got married last summer. I work with computers in a job that no one ever remembers the full title of. My life was mostly that of a bachelor obsessed with his career until Wanda moved in upstairs." He smiles up at her, and she leans in and kisses him, making his heart jump with the surprise of it. Her hand rests on his shoulder, her lips moving against his, and he finds that he kisses her back, as easily as breathing.

When she breaks away, it's to obnoxious cooing from her friends, and he has to force himself back into reality, remembering that this is all a performance. Just riding out their lies to get their friends off their backs. "I love new couples," Jemma says softly, leaning against Leo's side with a sweet smile. "Fitz, we should have dinner with Jessica and Luke once they've gotten used to being together. They've been dancing around each other for years, I want to see how they act now they've finally made their moves."

"They might find it intimidating to have dinner with a couple so close no one's referred to you separately in years," Ian says, reaching around Darcy in his lap for a handful of popcorn. "Why don't we try leaving our college friends alone for a change?"

"But where would the fun be in that?" Darcy asks of him, a gleam in her eyes despite the fact that her boyfriend is pursing his lips and shaking his head at her. "I happen to like knowing what all the people we used to hang out with at parties are up to these days."

"I'm looking forward to more weddings," Steve says, and gives Bucky a smile of such sweetness that Vision can't help the hot twist of jealousy, wishing there was even potential for him to have that with someone again. "Bobbi and Hunter's was so beautiful."

"Though the day was slightly marred by Dais getting too drunk and ending up crying in the bridal suite because Ward had just cheated on her," Natasha remarks. The word strikes a chord in Vision's chest, remembering the tears and the desperate pleading and the cold look in the eyes he once knew so well, and he abruptly shifts Wanda from his lap and stands up, nearly knocking over the half-full wine bottle at his feet.

The corridor outside the apartment smells faintly musty, and one of the lights is out while the rest flicker and emit a low, mildly irritating electric buzz, but it's empty. That means Vision can lean back against the wall and hide his face in his hands, trying to calm his breathing and not to allow his mind to relive the memories that defined every waking moment for months, leading him to spend much of his Christmas shut away in a particular room in the Stark Manor, unable to face Howard and Maria's perfectly long-lasting marriage or Tony and Pepper's newly-engaged bliss. Only when Bruce came into the room and listened patiently for forty minutes did he think about leaving, joining the group in time for after-dinner drinks and winding up sobbing into Pepper's shoulder. Rather than dwell on such memories, he tries to focus on that etiquette guide his mother insisted he read before his brother's wedding, remembering the particular rules for groomsmen and the importance of understanding duties and supporting the groom.

"Hey." Her voice is already so familiar to him, making his heart skip a beat, and he looks up to Wanda squeezing her way out of Darcy's door, hair pulled over one shoulder and lipstick slightly smudged, making the edges of her mouth appear blurry. She puts a hand on his arm, leans up slightly to look into his eyes, and asks, "Are you okay?"

"Just..." He could tell her, he truly could. It would be so easy to confess, to pour his heart out on this woman with her green eyes shining in the gloom and her hand resting so gently on his arm and the softness of her smile and how genuinely concerned she seems for him. To tell her that Ellen blew his life apart by swiftly and mercilessly ending a thirteen-year relationship he believed to be almost at a point of marriage. That she took the joy from his apartment with her until he couldn't stand it and threw everything out, starting from scratch. That for weeks afterwards he still woke up and reached for her in the morning, until reality almost pulled the tears from him again. He could tell her what he hasn't told anybody, what he doesn't want his friends to know lest they become even more overprotective. "I'm just a little overwhelmed."

He thinks he sees a spark in her eyes, something to suggest she know he's lying, but she doesn't push. She simply leans back against the wall next to him, presses herself into his side, gives a sympathetic squeeze to his hand. "They're a lot to take in," she says gently. "They really don't mean to be. Part of Sam and Darcy's appeal is being loud and obnoxious."

"I like them," he reassures her, and he can't fail to notice that she smiles, clearly pleased at his opinion of her friends. "I can't wait to meet the others when they're not busy."

"Dais has been texting me instead of the groupchat all night, she wishes she could be here," Wanda says, coinciding with her phone pinging once again. "But she's having fun. Her guy sounds lovely, so soon you won't be the latest boyfriend that lot insist on meeting."

"He'll be real, though," Vision says, fighting to keep his tone light and not shadowed by sadness.

"They won't know the difference," Wanda says after a beat of silence, and takes his hand in hers. "Do you want to brave them again? Or do you want to go home?"

"I would like to go home," he says, voice small, feeling the way he did whenever he left a party early in college, the way he did when he had to walk away from Tony and Pepper's engagement party and spent an hour in a twenty-four hour diner a few streets away, staring into a lacklustre cup of coffee and trying not to break down. Wanda nods, smiles reassuringly at him, and pulls her phone from her pocket, leaving her other hand in his. "What are you doing?"

"Checking when the next train is back to the apartment," she answers simply.

"Don't be ridiculous, Wanda, you don't have to cut your night with your friends short for my sake," he says, and she looks up at him with one eyebrow raised pointedly. "I'll get the subway alone, I've managed it perfectly well since I moved to the city seventeen years ago."

"It's a basic rule of my friend group, Vision," she says. "No one goes anywhere alone. And since you haven't actually insisted I stay, I'll be going with you." She tucks her phone back into her pocket, smiles and says, "Next train is in twenty minutes. I'll go say our goodbyes and get your coat."

"I am perfectly capable of getting my own coat," he says, and her smile grows, a laugh bubbling out of her and her hand leaving his to nestle in the crook of his elbow.

"Sorry, everyone, but we'll be leaving now," she says, and every head in the room turns back towards them, the expressions on her friends' faces ranging from disappointment on Clint's to a smirk on Sam's. "And get your head out of the gutter, Wilson. It's been a long week."

"The solution to that is more alcohol," Sam says, waving the neck of a bottle of wine in her direction, and Wanda rolls her eyes, the fondness of the smile on her lips belying the irritation of the gesture. "Oh, c'mon, Maximoff, stay a little longer."

"Vizh works sixty hours a week, Sam, you're lucky we're still here at midnight," she says, and Vision clings to the excuse, giving the room at large an apologetic shrug. "I promise, we can do this again. He still has to meet Jane, Thor and Dais."

"I look forward to it," Vision puts in as he pulls his coat around himself, holding Wanda's out for her to slide her arms into in an instinctive gesture. "This has been a lovely evening, thank you all for being so welcoming."

"Well, we trust our little girl to make good decisions in her love life," Clint says, ignoring Wanda's glare. "So far, she's never been drastically wrong about a guy. I don't think you're going to be the exception."

"If you're all done evaluating my boyfriend, good night," Wanda says, leaning against Vision's side, his arm moving to wrap around her before a block slams up in his mind and he stops. "I'll text once I'm home. Don't stay up too late, don't drink too much."

They leave the apartment with goodbyes echoing behind them, and she links her fingers through his as they descend the stairs with their flickering overhead lights back to street level, setting off at a brisk pace to the nearest subway station. It's only when they get there, pausing to fumble for their tickets, that she turns the searchlight beam of her gaze on him and says, "So, we both know you didn't disappear out of the room because you were overwhelmed by my friends. What really happened?"

"Nothing," he insists, and she gazes at him for a long moment of silence, gaze moving around his face as if she's searching for all of his secrets.

"Okay," she says at long last, and he breathes easily. "You don't want to talk. I understand. We haven't known each other very long, of course you don't trust me with all your secrets yet. But," her voice softens, and she takes his hand tightly in hers, stepping close enough to call it kissing distance, close enough that his heart starts to beat a little faster, "if you want to talk, when you feel ready, I'm here."

For a moment, he can't speak, words trapped behind the walls that have been building up since Ellen left, shields against letting his heart become vulnerable to that kind of breakage again. But he manages to smile, to squeeze her hand in return, and smile. "Thank you," he says, and she leans into him as they wait on a cold platform, her head tucked beneath his chin. "Thank for understanding that I'm not ready to talk."

"Everyone has secrets," she says softly, quiet enough that it would perhaps be muffled. Perhaps that's what she hopes for. So he doesn't reply, simply squeezes her hand a little tighter and tries not to think too hard about what she might be hiding as the train rattles into the station.


End file.
